I am what I am
by Firilya
Summary: xXrewritingXx Yoshimo/PC thingie.
1. Chapter One

_Disclaimer - first things first - I don't own the characters, items or places mentioned. All of them are property of Bioware/Wizards of the Coast._

_Well, this disclaimer is probably the only thing that's going to stay all the same. I'm completely rewriting the story now. I messed that up too much and it's not really fun anymore continuing the way it was, sooo - I started over now. It's gonna be a lot better, I promise. Still the same story basically, but quite different an approach. More flash-backs, less boring copied-form-the-game-dialogue (none if I can do it the way I'm planning to).  
I'm also thinking about changing the title, but if you ask me - titles suck. But since the story has to have one, we are accepting submissions as of today... ;) no, but I'm serious. If you've got a good idea, tell me.  
Okay, that's enough boring author's notes for now... please lean back and I hope you enjoy..._

_**Shadow & Snackfiend - **Thanks a thousand times for keeping reading and reviewing my stuff. It is mainly because of you two that I decided I really wanted to improve things about this story... I hope I did, and I hope you have fun reading._

_

* * *

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Chapter One

"Lady, there is something that I think you'd like to tend to personally..."

The soft voice of the solar awoke the dozing goddess.

"You think so...?"

She slowly, tiredly stood up from the big, throne-like chair in the middle of the room, while the solar seemed to shake its slightly blurry head yes.

"The time for one of your old friends has come."

* * *

When she left the portal, the goddess already knew that it had led her to a battle-field before the blue dust had cleared away to reveal it - after so many years, she could tell. The screams of dying creatures, both on the plane their fading bodies dwelled on and on the plane their spirit had already partly entered. The sensation of magic and countless spells cast in the air. The smell of smoke, of fire, of burned flesh and hair. And, stronger than all the other scents, the one of blood. 

The magic smoke finally cleared away. She was standing in the middle of an inferno of rather gigantic dimensions. A huge field of bodies, shining armory and weapons, all of them spilled with blood. On a hill on the horizon she could see a burning city, and she could feel the death everywhere. Some of the mortals were still fighting around her, but none of them seemed to notice the small elven woman that now slowly approached one of the hundreds that were lying on the ground. She did not need to search for him - even now that he was passing, she could still feel the light and power of his spirit, strong and refusing to be broken. She even believed that it was audiable somehow, as if his soul was singing one of his songs.

A huge warrior ran by her as she kneeled down, but he did not pay any heed to her. But the man on the ground did. His eyes, which he had already closed awaiting his death, flickered open.

"My raven..."

His voice was hoarse, but still as beautiful as she remembered it.

"I would... not have thought you... would give me the honor of... coming yourself..."

The bit of irony that had always been in his voice had not changed either. She smiled and reached out to softly touch the long hair, the color of which was somewhere between blue and grey and had always reminded her of clouds. And she realized that she felt affection, a deep, warm affection, again, for the first time in a century. She had almost forgotten what it was like.

"So it is... finally... time to go..." the man on the ground whispered, breathing heavily. She just nodded. He tried to nod, too, although his head hardly moved. Then he closed his eyes. She carefully laid a hand on his chest, and on a plane far away from Faerûn, the last of those who had known her as a mortal died.

* * *

When she returned to the round room with the high ceiling and naught but the throne in it, the solar was already awaiting her. 

"Where is he?"

The solar's voice echoed in the empty room. The goddess climbed the few stairs and sat down on her throne heavily.

"Where should he be?" she asked and closed her eyes, "Near the Portal, awaiting either a new life or his fate for eternity..."

She felt empty and tired and did not want to talk.

"I'd like to rest now."

There was silence for a while and she believed the solar was gone.

"You did not bring him here?"

The question surprised her and she opened her eyes again.

"Even if I was allowed to - why would I bring him here?"

"He is the last one..."

The goddess shook her head.

"I don't want to hear anything about that... and I mustn't disturb the natural way of things - it is you who taught me that. I am the one who protects the balance between life and death. Chaos would reign if I broke the laws."

The solar bent its head to the right.

"Of course it is you who must decide, my lady... but remember, once he has passed the Portal, the last connection to your mortal life will be gone... maybe this is what you want... maybe you are absorbing in your role as a goddess now... but think about it... for I have seen many gods come and go, and I advise you - think about it."

The solar turned to leave.

"...think well..."

She felt a warm wind with the prickling of magic to it on her skin, and the solar was gone.

* * *

_How long does a soul wait by the Portal? Jaheira once told me it depended on the spirit of the person... on their will to continue their life... but after some days even the strongest of souls cannot be resurrected, she said... no one can long refuse theirself to the Portal._

_I am the one who protects the balance between life and death. I bring the souls to the Portal... no more... no less. My father abused his power... and see what happened._

_I admit that I still think back to my mortal life often. I tried to forget, but I cannot... for between all the pain that I long to banish from my mind, I find my most precious memories... _

_Back then I had friends with me... maybe that's what makes the difference to me. That's what makes me belief the old times were better. Maybe they were... I don't know. _

_But it doesn't matter anymore. I can't go back._

_I am the one who protects the balance between life and death. It is my duty._

_I once wanted to break the laws of life and death... and I had to find out that I could not. I wanted to die myself at that time. But I had friends back then..._

_The solar is my friend. My teacher and advisor, the kindest and most loyal being one can imagine._

_Yet I feel lonely. Empty. Tired of everything._

_I was not lonely back then._

_Which is a lie - I was. A being that is connected that closely with divinity will always be lonely, I know that now._

_I had the chance to give up this connection... to give it up completely... and I chose to strengthen it instead. I wanted to be lonely. I did not want to be hurt anymore._

_Feeling pain is better than feeling nothing._

_How much time has passed since I brought him to the Portal?_

_I am the one who protects the balance..._

_I feel empty, and I want it to stop._

_I feel lonely, and I'm tired of being lonely._

_I cannot protect the balance when I am unbalanced myself..._

* * *

This time she did not even wait for the blue smoke to clear away. She just ran out of the cloud of dust, looking around hectically. It was always hard to orientate near the Portal, because she saw the place like those waiting there saw it - which could be confusing as usually hundreds and hundreds souls were waiting there. She could see a big family sitting by the fireside in a huge hall, laughing and telling stories. But at the same place there were so many more, although none of them was in the hall. There were children playing on a meadow full of flowers in the bright sunlight. There were magicians, sorcerers, alchimists and many more wise-looking people of professions that were impossible to tell gathered in a huge library, where they read about the secrets of life itself, just to forget about them again as soon as they left the room through the small and unobtrusive wooden door in a corner. 

She concentrated on one after another of the different layers, sometimes directly entered one to have a short look around, but the man she was searching for was nowhere to be seen... a huge stage full of minstrels, bards and story-tellers, but he was not among them... a tavern with the bravest of warriors, telling each other about their past victories... she briefly smiled at the irony that of course none of them mentioned the battle that had brought them to this place, but she did not take the time to really think about that, for he was not in this place either... a gloomy room full of the strangest of creatures, a wild mixture of beings from all kinds of different planes - he would have loved this place, but she could feel that his soul was not there.

A plateau atop a mountain so high that she could look down on the clouds from there... a small temple... a hall decorated with the banner of the Doom's Guard - he had to be there - but nothing, and the time was flowing by, it was running so quickly...

She found herself in the courtyard of an old castle, nobles in ostentatious clothes all around her. She looked around - no, of course he was not here. The place did not fit him at all. She realized that she was starting to change layers without even thinking about which one she was going to, so she stopped for a moment, trying to catch her breath. She closed her eyes to regain her self-control. She was running out of time, and a part of her wanted to break down and burst into tears, but she knew that her search would fail the moment she allowed herself to panick. So she took some deep breaths, inhaling the air that was full of the scent of the numberous flowers in the courtyard. It calmed her a little. She just wanted to continue her search, when a tall man dressed in a leather-armor and a dark cloak appeared right in front of her, a smug grin on his face.

"Doing my job again, are you?" he greeted her. His voice sounded sweetish, but his grey eyes were cold.

"Leave me alone, Cyric. I don't have time for one of your verbal fights right now."

His irritating smile stayed just the same.

"Then what a about a real fight?"

"I told you I don't have the time. Now leave me be."

Her sillouette grew transparent as she left the layer, but Cyric followed her without much difficulty. They were now standing on a wild open space, a desert with no sun but only thick clouds above it, in which there was raging a thunderstorm with no rain. Around them there were wild creatures, the ones that still looked most familiar to her reminded her distantly of minotaurus. She inwardly cursed for not paying attention to where she was going again.

"Murder and death were mine until you came..." Cyric spoke with a vexingly calm voice. It made her angry. She was wasting her time.

"I thought we had had our fight about this matter. You should be grateful that I spared your life, god of lies."

His evil grin flickered for a short second.

"Things have changed," he snarled, "Some things have to be decided anew..."

"Not today," she exclaimed with forced calmness. Every second that she spent talking to him was lost... Cyric laughed.

"You see what I mean? You are still talking about days now that time is not what it is for mortals to you... things here are going to change... soon."

"I DON'T HAVE THE TIME!" she shouted and fired the first spell at him that came to her mind. It was a rather weak fireball-spell that ricoceted from his armor without even leaving burns on the leather. Cyric's smug grin widened, if this was still possible.

"Pitiable," he said, "I don't want a victory over someone who is too confused to even choose a spell. The fairness in it could be doubted, so... I am going to leave you alone - for the moment... prepare better for the time I will come back."

He vanished into thin air, and the much more powerful death-spell that had been aimed at him this time hit a dead, dried up tree. She did not waste a second thought on him and left the desert.

She found herself under a clear nightsky where moon and stars were sparkling in their white light. The cool air felt good on her heated cheeks. She took a deep breath and looked around - again, she had switched to the next best place. A wide lake, black in the moon-light, streched between the grassy hills, and from somewhere she could hear the words of a song... a traditional elven song, as she remembered while she walked towards the sound. On the shore of the lake she could now see the silhouette of the singer, sitting there all alone, a harp in his hands. Although she was sure that he saw and heard her coming, he just continued playing his sad song, and she sat down beside him to listen. When he had finally finished, she asked, "What is the name of this song?"

He smiled.

"I thought you knew that, my raven. I once heard you singing it yourself."

She nodded.

"Yes... I used to like this song a lot. But I forgot..."

He chuckled.

"Instead of all the things that were more worth forgetting, the raven chose a song to forget... it is a shame, I say."

She could not help but smile, too. Although the smile did not last long.

"You have not passed the Portal yet...", she stated after a while, "I thought I might already be too late."

He laughed.

"I see you have not brought many bards and poets to the place where they bide their last life goodbye... I would suppose that no other being clings as much to this life as those who had the fame they always wished for... and as maybe you have not forgotten this sparrow is one of the most stubborn of all poets."

She smiled again. Yes, this poet had always made her smile, even in the darkest of days.

"And what would this sparrow say if I suggested that he could stubbornly cling to his life for some more time, in case he agreed to follow me away from this highly confusing place to somewhere he and the raven can talk...?"

He smirked, obviously amused about how she immitated his speech.

"The sparrow would say he'd love to."

* * *


	2. Chapter Two

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The characters, places and anything else you recognize is property of Bioware. _

_Just to inform you abou things you don't want to know - the rewriting is going rather well. I'm actually surprised myself. Yay. Update-time! Within less than two months since I posted the last chapter. Amazing isn't it.  
There's a bit of an old scene in this chapter, but since it tied in rather well I decided to use a slightly revised version of it._

_**Kendris - **Thanks a lot for your review. Yes, the Portal-layer-thing was probably a bit confusiong... that was partly intended because it's confusing for the searching goddess and you see things through her eyes, but maybe I should explain it now. :smiles:_

_The area around the Portal is kind of a way station where the souls wait for either their 'real' afterlife or being reborn (which is decided when they pass the Portal). The thing with the layers comes because everyone sees this place like they think it should be; that's also why there are kind of groups in certain places, like nobles around the castle and such. The gods and especially the one who brings the souls there are not really bound to the laws of this place and can see and enter all the different layers (the dead people see only the layer they are on).  
The Portal itself looks different depending on the layer, too. E.g. in the library I mentioned a small, unobtrusive door - that's the Portal seen from this layer. For the nobles it's the entrance-door of the castle and in Haer'Dalis' lonely place where it's always night, it is the lake itself. How people see the Portal is not as directly controlled by them as the looks of the area around it, but it has to do with what they think about life and death, too.  
A person can be resurrected as long as they have not passed the Portal yet._

_**Finduilas - **Thank you very much for telling me about the wrong words. Since English isn't my mother-tongue I suppose there are going to be more of them... uh... and I did the stupid dessert-desert thing. :curses: I actually changed that when I checked for mistakes because I believed it was correct the other way round... :laughs: ...so thanks a lot, I've corrected these things now. :)_

_**Shadow - **I hadn't thought at all of the explanation for the title you brought up, but it convinces me. So I think I'll keep it... thanks. :)_

_

* * *

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Chapter Two

"Well... you said you wanted to talk to me, my raven?"

"Yes..."

"And what about, if I may ask?"

"You're a bard - I'd like to tell you a story..."

The poet leaned back in one of the big and comfortable arm-chairs, that were now to be found near a fireplace in the middle of the round room. The throne was gone.

"I am always curious to hear new tales, Taya," he said with a smirk.

"'Taya'... it's been a long time since someone called me this name..."

* * *

"Ouch! Your rodent bit me!" 

"If Boo bit you Minsc is sure there be good reason!"

"I didn't do the little guy any harm!"

"Will you two shut up, _please_, I can hardly stand this crowded place anyway!"

Taya could not help but smirk at the scene. Minsc was still quietly talking to Boo, while Yoshimo had put his bleeding finger into his mouth and was obviously sulking now.

What she did not find very amusing, though, was that the noisy and crowded city really seemed to irritate Jaheira. But although she felt concerned for her friend, she did not worry about this too much - she would take care to get a job that brought them to the woods and wild land around the city for a couple of weeks, and everything would be alright.

At the moment they were making their way through a wide street leading down to the docks. When they came aroud a corner, there suddenly were no more houses by the left side of the street but just a small wall, over the brim of which a mignificent view over the quarter, the port and the bay unfolded. Taya was a little surprised by how beautiful all this looked to her - until this day she had not believed that there was anything about a big city like this one that could appeal to her. While she was still enjoying the view, especially on the sea that was glittering in the bright sunlight of the afternoon, Yoshimo closed up to her and cleared his throat.

"Ahm - Taya, would you have a second for me?"

Taya reluctantly turned her head to look at him. Although she had been travelling with the bounty-hunter for several weeks now, she knew practically nothing about him. She had asked him about his past when they first met, but he had somehow managed to tell her everything and nothing, and so she had just asumed that he liked his privacy and left it with that. That he wanted to talk to her now made her curious.

"Sure. Is there anything wrong?"

He smiled and shook his head, but he looked a little nervous, though.

"No, no, everything's fine. I just thought that... you know, now that we're going to the docs and... oh!"

He drew a dagger with enormous speed and leapt straight towards her, and for a second Taya seriously believed that he was going to kill her. But either he had aimed really badly or the stab had maybe not been meant to be for her after all, since he stopped the knife somewhere behind her back. Turning around slowly, she saw a small hooded man in black leathers, who was holding a few small gems and goldcoins in his hands, Yoshimo's dagger right in front of his throat.

"Amran. Nice to see you again," Yoshimo stated with a rather weak try of looking like it, "But please give this lady her money back, would you?"

The other thief growled but handed the shiny contents of his hands back to Taya, muttering something like 'only worthless stuff anyway' under his breath.

"Thank you," Yoshimo said and drew back the dagger.

The small man snorted and snarled "Renal wants to see you, bounty-hunter. And you'd better not let him wait."

With this, he turned around and vanished in the crowd. Jaheira, who had followed the whole scene silently, gave Yoshimo an especially icy glare.

"Don't tell us you've messed with the head of the Shadow-Thieves."

He grinned weakly.

"Well, no, not really messed. It's just the way that they... don't like people who ... work independently. We could make a profit of the situatioin, though. As far as I know, Renal needs someone not in his guild at the moment to solve some problems for him, and I suppose he might be willing to exchange my punishment for a little help. We could even talk him into a nice payment, I guess."

Now it was Jaheira who snorted.

"Oh, and what if he prefers to make a nice little trophy of your head? Do we have to fight our way out then? Against a guildhouse full of Shadow-Thieves?"

"Look," Yoshimo said, trying to calm her, "We can either talk to Renal now or wait until his assassins find us."

"Or we can leave you to your problems!"

She turned around.

"Taya, we should send him away. I've got a strange feeling about him. He's trouble, and we owe him nothing!"

"We cannot abandon a friend in need!" Minsc declared enthusiastically, but Jaheira just ignored him. Taya looked looked into her face.

"Jaheira, we don't even know if that Renal really is that mad at Yoshimo."

She looked down to her feet and continued, "And yes, I do owe him something. He has saved my life in combat a few days ago."

"Ha!", yelled Minsc, "Then it is a matter of honour to save his life now! Isn't it, Boo?"

Boo gave an approving sqeak.

"Fine," Jaheira spat, "Fine, then. I've warned you."

Taya reached out to lay a hand on her arm, a worried look in her eyes.

"Jaheira, please..."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not leaving." Jaheira snorted again. "I will stand by you, for you will get into serious trouble sooner or later if you remain that naive. You trust people too much, Taya, and you will regret it one day."

* * *

The bard could not hold back a small grin. The goddess arched an eyebrow. 

"Is my story that amusing, poet?"

His grin did not fade the slightest bit.

"What an icy remark. I see my raven has lost some of her humor. But to answer your question - I was amused because I remembered my first impression of you... which was not that you were a person who trusted others easily..."

* * *

Haer'Dalis awoke in the twilight of a storeroom full of food gone bad, but scattered over the shelves there were also some perfectly intact looking magical instruments and ingrediences. He sat up but immediately regretted to have done so - his head hurt as if he had drunk at least a dozen of big mugs filled to the brim with dwarven beer. And he knew what he was talking about in that matter. 

He had just managed to get to his feet somehow when he heard fighting-noises in the room next door. He looked around quickly and found that his weapons had not been taken away - surprising, but unfortunately he did not have the time to think about it. He cast a rather simple protective spell - his head still hurt too much to concentrate on a more complex one - and withdrew to a corner of the room to wait. While he stood there his memory of how he came to be in this place slowly came back to him. The wizard he had tried to steal from had caught him and then... well, what then? He could not remember, but obviously he had been kept in this place somehow.

While he still thought about it, two women entered the room; a tall blonde half-elf in in heavy armor who was having a vigilant look around, and a younger elf with brown hair, who looked small even considering the norms among her people. Haer'Dalis decided to come out of his corner - as their eyes were much better than those of humans, they would see him the next moment anyway and might think him to be hostile if he was hiding. So he resheathed one of his swords - not the second one, for who could know if these two were not worse than they looked - and took a step foreward.

"Good day, my friends...", he greeted them and wanted to add something else, but he did not get that far. The elf with the brown hair, who had started to look through the magical instruments with a kind of semi-interest, spun around and immediately cast a spell that knocked him off his feet. Before he had even realized what had happened, she was standing next to him, staring down at him coldly and holding a fireball in each of her hands, both of which were undoubtedly aiming at him. He smiled and made a calming gesture.

"My dear lady, there is no need for such hosti--"

"Shut it."

She cast another spell and he fell silent.

"What do you think, is that him?", she asked over her shoulder, without looking away from Haer'Dalis, though. The half-elf, at whom the question had obviously been directed, was standing behind her younger friend, her arms crossed over her chest. She eyed him critically, then nodded.

"I think so... at least he's a tiefling, like the rest of these actors."

The elf did not seem to be convinced. She let one of the fireballs vanish to make a gesture with her now free hand, and Haer'Dalis felt his voice come back.

"What's your name?"

It sounded like a command rather than a question. He cleared his throat to make sure his voice was restored to its full capacity before he answered.

"The name of this humble poet and bard is Haer'Dalis... and I assume you two--"

The brown-haired elf cast a silence-spell for the second time, and while her friend kept a sharp eye on him she turned away, walked towards the doorway and shouted "We've found him."

* * *

She shrugged one shoulder. It looked a little strange, because otherwise she was sitting in her armchair with all the dignity that suited a goddess. 

"You're right, I didn't trust you at all when we first met. But I had my reasons."

The bard smiled and raised one eyebrow.

"Of that I am sure. But you would not care to tell me these reasons, would you?"

"Not yet," she said, "But... I am sorry for not trusting you."

A small smirk flickered over her face.

"...and for taking away your voice, which I suppose offended you much more."

He laughed.

"I most heartily agree. You could not have done anything to gain more mistrust and antipathy from my side, my suspicious raven."

She smiled, and he contently laid back his head to look at the celing of the room for a moment; it had attracted his attention from the second that he had arrived in this place. It illuminated the room somehow, but although he had spent several minutes just listening and staring at the celing already, he had still not managed to define what he saw. He asumed that it changed in color, but other than that he had found out nothing about it.

"What do you see up there?" she asked, following his eyes. He shifted in his seat to look at her again.

"Naught but colors that I cannot even name, my raven."

He smiled.

"Why do you ask? Do you see something else?"

"I see the past...", she said, looking at the celing herself now. He realized with a silent curse that the smile had already left her face again - he hated being unable to cheer people up. He only very rarely was. So he adressed her in a voice with a well-measured amount of cheerfulness to it, "Talking about the past, my raven, I interrupted your tale with my own little episode... forgive a bard, this is just what we are like. So would you like to continue now?"

She looked down from the celing again with an absent-mided expression in her eyes, then, after a moment, nodded.

* * *

When they left the Shadow-Thieves' guildhouse again, it was almost sunset-time. Things had turned out well, though - they had been assigned a task in the exchange of which Renal Bloodscalp had agreed to forget about his differences with Yoshimo. 

Taya however was currently not thinking about the work that was ahead of them, but had burst into almost hysterical giggling the moment they had left the building. When she had regained her ability to speak, she whiped away her tears and hit one hand onto Yoshimo's back, who for his part was looking rather humiliated.

"'Yoshi', huh?"

The bounty-hunter stared at the ground.

"You don't know him, he's always like that. Especially with people he considers to be beneath him."

Taya was still laughing. Yoshimo took a last, rather poor attempt to save his dignity.

"Really, fail in this task he gave us and he'll call you 'Tay-Tay'!"

In her current state, the stupid name made Taya just laugh even more. Yoshimo shook his head and gave up, a grin spreading across his face, though.

"Fine, laugh, but don't you ever call me that name!"

"Aww, don't be angry with me, Yoshi!"

* * *


	3. Chapter Three

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The characters, places and anything else you recognize is property of Bioware. _

_Uh... this is the rewritten version of the rewritten chapter. Sorry for the lousy character-development of Taya in the -ahem- first rewritten version (geez, I shouldn't write when tired), and thanks to **Kendris **for pointing our what I really should have realized myself...  
_

_**Findulas - **Thanks for telling me about the errors, again. :)_

_**Shadow - **Are you alright? .:gives you a worried glance:._

_**Snackfiend&TheThridRaven - **Thank you. :)_

_**Kendris - **Thanks again for your review for this chapter. I hope it's better now..._

_

* * *

_

Chapter Three

A small smile had slowly appeared on the goddess' face while she had been talking. She was now gazing at the cold gray floor, obviously thinking back to different times. The bard decided to leave her to her thoughts for the moment, although he had a number of questions and remarks.  
When she finally looked up at him again, still smiling, she leaned back in her seat. She looked almost content, in a way that he had never seen on her before.

"You know, it was always lots of fun to spend time with him..."

* * *

When they had found out that Imoen had probably been brought to Spellhold, the Cowled Wizards' secret keep that was dreaded all over Amn, Taya had been rather depressed. Of course she had known right from the start that Imoen could not be well when kidnapped by Irenicus or the wizards, but she had somehow not realized how awful it had to be. She could not recall most of the time she herself had spent in Irenicus' dungeon before Imoen had freed her from her cell, and what she remembered was nothing but a blur. But the merchant and host, who had told them a bit about Spellhold, had been scaringly detailed in his discription of how the wizards there dealt with their prisoners. Taya's consequence had been to head straight to the Windspear-Hills, the next place where she might be able to gain more money for Imoen's rescue. ButTaya had urged the groupto travel at such a rapid pace that everyone was exhausted before they even arrived. 

Taya had offered to take the first guard since she was in no mood for sleeping anyway, and uneasily watched the sun set and the moon rise, while her friends fell asleep one after another. Only Yoshimo, she realized, was sitting on his bed-roll, looking absent-mindedly and seemingly supressing his own nervousness. Taya watched him for a while. She had to admit that he was quite handsome with his sun-browned skin, shoulder-length black hair and elegant moves that reminded her of a cat. But at the moment he looked nervous and restless, and she was pretty sure that it was not - or at least not only - because of what they had learned about Spellhold. He simply had not known Imoen long enough to be that affected about it. No, he really did not seem to be the kind of person who worried lots about people they hardly knew. That he looked that troubled none the less made Taya decide to push her own worries aside for the moment and see what was wrong with him. She got up from the stone she had been sitting on, gathered up her staff and the boots she had taken off, and walked over to him.

"Are you alright?"

He looked up at her, and it was obvious that he had neither seen nor heard her approaching.

"Yes... it's just... I'm fine."

She studied his face again, then stated, "Doesn't look like it." and sat down next to him. "So what's wrong? We're a group, if you've got problems it affects all of us."

Yoshimo seemed to consider the point for a second, then answered.

"My wife has spent a little fortune just to send me a messenger, who told me she was fed up with a husband who's never at home and that she had someone new."

"Oh... I'm sorry," Taya said, but strangely enough Yoshimo seemed to supress a grin. She frowned. "Really?"

"No."

Taya arched an eyebrow.

"Do you even have a wife?"

Yoshimo laughed.

"No, I don't."

Taya grinnned and gave him a slap on the shoulder.

"Don't you make fun of your group-leader."

He pretended to slap back, but laughed and let his had sink again when she reflexively took a defensive position.

"Don't _you_ mistrust your companions so much," he mocked, "Do you really think I'd seriously hurt you?"

She gave him another slap for that remark.

"Ouch! Now please, lets solve this like grown-up people," he laughed. Taya smiled and raised one eyebrow.

"Alright. We'll stop it now," she said and offered him her hand. He took it, and while he was struck with a grease-spell the moment he did, he upended a small bottle over Taya's head. The elf vanished in a cloud of purple smoke and had turned into a weasel when she reappeared, while a sticky black oil covered the bounty-hunter from top to toe. He tried to shake some off himself, but he got rid of only a few drops - which hit the weasel in the face. Taya spit into the grass and sqeaked, "What in the nine hells...!"

"I could ask the same of you", said Yoshimo, trying not to let too much of the liquid drip into his mouth while he spoke, "Do I now have to walk back the two miles to the last pool of water we came across?"

The weased giggled maliciously.

"Oh, don't bother to do so, you won't be able to wash it off with water anyway."

Yoshimo shot her a death-glare. The Taya-weasel sighed and let herself plop onto her back-paws.

"Calm down, it'll wear off in a few minutes... What about this?", she added after a few seconds, demonstratively pulling on the fur on her tiny right arm, "Do I need a counter-spell?"

"Sure, and the best is still ahead of you - you're goning toattract lice like a filthy old dog."

The weasel used her back-paw to scratch behind her ear.

"That was nasty..."

But this moment, with a little 'plopp' and another cloud of colored dust, she turned back into her normal elven self. With one foot still behind her ear.

"Counter-spell, you said?", she asked with a smirk. Yoshimo seemed to grin, too, although it was not clearly to be told due to the oil still on his face.

"Well, since that potion was originally meant to be for me, of course you don't need one."

"Why would you want to be a weasel, _Yoshi_?" she teased.

"Very funny," he responded in only semi-serious sourness, "As you could figure out yourself, it sometimes can be very practical in my profession to be a small, cute, unobtrusive animal... like you just were." Even through the oil on his face Taya could now see a grin that could not mean anything good. "You know, thinking about it, I feel cute weasels deserve a hug from time to time..."

She shrieked and jumped up, wanting to run away, but Yoshimo quickly slung one arm around her waist, pulled her close and smeared her all over with the sticky dark liquid. Taya laughed and struggled to get away from him, but to the only effect that they both stumbled and fell to the ground, still laughing.

"Mmm... could you please be a little more quiet?", Nalia asked sleepy from behind them, sitting up in her improvised bed. She looked around to find the disturber of her peace, and finally spied Yoshimo and Taya on the floor. The grease-spell had just started to wear off.

"Oh...", she mumbled, "Well, don't let me disturb you, just... just go ahead..." She let herself fall back into her pillows and turned away from them. Yoshimo and Taya looked at each other a little embarassed for a moment, then both burst into laughter.

* * *

_Thanks to Funduilas88 for the grammar- and spelling-correction in this chapter, too. :)_

* * *


	4. Chapter Four

_Finally it's there :D  
You might realize that my grammar, spelling and such in this chapter are a lot better than usually - thanks to Finduilas88, who did the beta and the editing. Thank you:)_

_

* * *

_ Chapter Four

"Thinking about it," the goddess said with a slight frown, "I'd say that night was what made us friends instead of mere companions." She nodded absent-mindedly. "Well, during the days and weeks that followed, we started talking more to each other... and after a while he reluctantly dropped the reserve that he usually showed towards others. Don't get me wrong, he was the kind of person that seemed to enjoy himself when surrounded by other people, but when you took a closer look, you got the impression that he somehow distanced himself from the others in the group. He talked to them, but he didn't reveal much about himself apart from his opinion about recent events, and he did not often ask the others about personal things either."

The bard shifted in his armchair and bit his tongue to hold back a couple of comments – not his style, really, but yet he considered it maybe a little too blunt in this case to confront his friend with the statement that _he_ had figured out what was going to happen a while ago, and that the story in his opinion served a number of clichés.

The goddess raised her eyebrows, looking thoughtful.

"Does it? Well then, you must forgive me, my cherished bard...or maybe you have just heard so many tales in your life that there is little that does not seem familiar now?"

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He had not said a word, had he?

"No, you have not," she said, looking a little amused now, "But being a greater power in the planes should have _some_ advantages, don't you think so? I'm sure you have not spent the last decades without learning anything new either." She seemed to find it pretty entertaining to have rendered the sharp-tongued bard speechless. "Ah, but I think I should continue now..."

* * *

The overall mood in the group had been grim during the last couple of days. Jaheira had been cursed by an old enemy of hers, a noble and ex-slave-trader named Ployer, who had lost his wealth due to the Harper's involvement in his 'business'. Since then, Jaheira had been growing weaker and weaker—with every passing hour it seemed—and finally Taya had decided to split up the group. They brought Jaheira —in spite of her heavy protests— to the house of Cernd, whom they had met a few weeks earlier. The calm druid agreed to take care of Jaheira, who could hardly stand on her feet by now although she would rather have swallowed a raw troll-liver than admitted it. Meanwhile, the rest of the group set out to look for a cure. From the information that had gathered so far, they needed to get hold of Baron Ployer, and quickly. The remaining four decided to split up in pairs at noon, having agreed that the Baron could not be too dangerous by himself and was probably too poor to hire any henchmen.

Now, with just one hour to sunset, Taya, who was wandering through the slums at Yoshimo's side rather aimlessly, was becoming increasing frustrated and angry. After rushing around the city all day without success, they were running out of ideas where else to search. But Tays was determined not to give up—Jaheira had fought too many battles at her side to perish like an old and sick woman now! And although Jaheira was not that young anymore, she should have a decent half of a century left to live, since she was of half-elven blood, and the thought of having to carry on without her hurt Taya. Although the druid had always been blunt and not at all sparing with her criticism, and had, if anything, been bitter and even more severe after Khalid's death, she was still the person who had taken the role of a mother both for Taya and Imoen. She thought uncomfortably about how her foster-sister might react if she had to tell her the druid had died... Taya could not stop her thoughts anymore at this point, so they kept circling around Jaheira, around the time they had spent together, and around death.

When she arrived at the same frustrating point for the dozenth time, she asked into the silence between her and Yoshimo "Please tell me...what does it feel like...you know, to…to die."

The bounty-hunter turned his head to look at her and raised one eyebrow.

"I have realized that the others pay a lot of attention to not letting you die in combat —but you have really never experienced it?"

Taya felt uncomfortable.

"Well—no. It would be rather final for me, I guess."

Yoshimo smiled reassuringly.

"From what I've seen, Jaheira is a very capable healer. She would be able to resurrect you."

"No, she would not," Taya stated plainly. Yoshimo seemed to consider for a moment whether Taya was just being stubborn or whether there might be more to it.

"Why not?"

Taya took a while to answer, then decided to trust him with the truth.

"I'm not sure... it has something to do with my heritage, but I can only guess what exactly it is."

"Your heritage?"

Yoshimo looked interested, but she just shrugged.

"My father. He...oh, you wouldn't believe me."

He grinned.

"I've seen many strange things on my journeys. There is little that could still surprise me."

"Is that so?" Taya arched an eyebrow. "Well —fine. My father is the dead god Bhaal. He foresaw his own death and so sired a number of mortal children. But it seems that they have not only inherited certain features and powers of his, for Bhaal actually split up his soul and passed it to his... spawn... as they call us." She spoke the word with a certain measure of contempt.

Yoshimo did not answer at once, but he looked neither shocked nor surprised, but thoughtful.

"Bhaal... the god of murder, whom Cyric killed in the Time of Troubles?" he asked.

"Precisely."

He nodded. "That would explain a couple of things...", he said, more to himself than to Taya. She, however, sensed the opportunity for another small, bracing argument on this dismal day, slapped him on the arm and asked, "Now what's _that_ supposed to mean? Do I act so god-of-murder-like already?" She pulled a face that might have scared little children—or, more probably, made them laugh. Which was also was Yoshimo did, after he had looked at her a little startled for a second and realized that he had just spoken his thoughts aloud.

"Of course," he said, grinning cheekily, "_I_ am afraid of you. It makes me very nervous that the others left me alone with you..."

"Oooh, and I'd hope you'd be nervous due to my... marvelous beauty..." She performed a pirouette that was meant to look light and graceful, but unfortunately tripped over the seam of her robes and bumped into a small group of beggars by the side of the street, who immediately started complaining. Chuckling, Yoshimo watched Taya's attempts to apologize and calm the people, who obviously refused to listen. A tall, bearded man looked at her threateningly.

"Oh, it's only the poor, to _them_ you can do that, right?"

"Sir, please, I was just--"

"Just what? You just felt like bullying some of us, huh?" He took a step towards her, and Taya could smell alcohol.

"Really, I did not mean to insult anyone, I just accidentally..."

"She did not mean to insult anyone," roared the man, "You folks with your pointed ears and stuck-up behaviour and pockets full of gold, you really make me..."

"Mister," Yoshimo spoke calmly, putting his arm protectively around Taya's shoulders, "Our pockets aren't quite as full as you believe, but I think we can dispense with some coins, and you can forget about this little incident." Although he was speaking in a light and friendly tone, Taya could sense Yoshimo's tension; he would draw his sword in a split second if need be.

The man seemed to consider whether he should take this as another insult, but his greed triumphed over the pleasure he obviously took in screaming. He held his hand out to Yoshimo, who smiled and handed him five gold coins. The rest of the people, who had become silent as they watched the argument, now realized their chance, and Yoshimo had to give another coin to each of them so they would finally let them go.

When they were out of ear-shot, Taya sighed. "How much did my clumsiness just cost us?"

"Twelve gold coins," Yoshimo replied immediately.

"You counted."

"Of course." He grinned. "When we find your Imoen, I'll hand her a list with all the money spent on your clumsiness and the consequential delay in her rescue."

Taya could smile only very slightly about this; the mention of Imoen did not exactly cheer her up. Yoshimo also seemed to realize that this had not been a good comment to make, and patted her shoulder. Taya noticed just then that he still had his arm around her.

"Hey, chin up. Your friend is going to be all right, I'm sure."

Taya nodded, but she was not at all convinced of this. Irenicus was cruel. Irenicus was unscrupulous. He was using Imoen as bait, and since the only way to find out if she was all right was going there, Imoen would - as much as Taya hated to think of this - do this job well no matter whether she was dead or alive. Taya shuddered and rested her head on Yoshimo's shoulder for a moment. From the corner of her eye she thought she saw that he looked a little surprised, but then he probably decided that she could use a bit of comfort and just patted her arm again. They walked a short way in silence, until she remembered her initial question.

"You still didn't tell me... well, if you don't want to talk about it it's all right, but, I was just thinking about death and all that..."

She gave him a little unsure sidelong glance. Yoshimo released her, cocked his head, thinking, and frowned slightly.

"Well... first, everything turns black, the pain goes, and all the things that you could probably think of yourself. Then it's like... hmm... as if I am awakening, and I find myself in a dark and wide space... a place that scares me, I admit. The clouds in the sky are dark and so thick that you believe you could touch them if you just reached up. The land is rough, infertile... all there is is an endless field of black, sharp stone all around me, and I stand on the edge of a cliff, or rather a split in the rocks. It's so deep that I cannot see the ground. But it's not dark down there... from the depth comes a cruel red light that hurts in my eyes..." He shuddered. "I usually turn and run half a mile before I realize what has happened... that I've died. Then I struggle to overcome my panic, sit down on the black rocks that would cut my clothes and flesh if I was still alive, and pray to all the gods whose names I can recall that someone will resurrect me because I know that _something_ will happen after a while if no one brings me back to life; but I never want to find out what that something is ..."

His gaze was empty, and although his skin was brown from the sun he looked pale, almost ill.

"I'm sorry," Taya mumbled, "Maybe I shouldn't have asked..."

He shook his head, staring at the ground. "No, no... I suppose it's normal to be curious about what comes... after." The thoughts of things he feared seemed to wash away from him slowly, then he raised his head with a jerk and looked at her firmly. "Do I seem like a coward to you now?" he asked brusquely. Taya was rather surprised.

"No, of course you don't." She shook her head. "But in my mind, you care for others' opinion too much."

He looked at her seriously.

"It's about honor... well I suppose people here think differently about it. But I don't care about any fool's opinion, I care about _yours_."

Taya smiled, a little unsure, though. Yoshimo smiled back, then looked around.

"We agreed to meet the others again at sunset, didn't we? I think it's time to return to Cernd's... Taya?"

He turned around to see that the elf had stopped in her tracks. Then she seized his arm and pulled him behind a heap of boxes and casks before he even realized what was happening.

"Taya, what…"

"Shh!"

She impatiently put one hand over his mouth, and pointed the other at a man walking down the street.

"That's him!" she whispered, "Baron Ployer!"

Yoshimo smiled grimly. "And he's alone... come, this is our chance."

He gave her a sign to block Ployer's way near a narrow side street, then sneaked up behind the Baron. The moment he saw Taya standing there, Yoshimo closed up to him and said loudly, "Ployer, my old friend!" Taya vanished into the side-street while Yoshimo whispered into the Baron's ear "Do you realize that there is a dagger at your back? Good. Now follow her, or it will have an unpleasant encounter with your innards."

Ployer protested quietly, but followed Taya. She finally stopped in the middle of the narrow street, that was actually not much more than a passage way between two houses, and took a dagger out of her pocket. Her hand was shaking slightly because she was so angry.

"Lift the curse from Jaheira", she whispered, "Or else..."

Ployer snorted, but the beads of sweat on his forehead belied his unaffected mien.

"Or else _what, _little girl? If you kill me you will never be able to cure your friend... and if you even try to I fear I'll have to call upon those most capable mages who cursed that Harper-fool for me again."

He smirked when Taya shot Yoshimo, who was still standing behind Ployer, a short unsure glance.

"He's bluffing," stated the thief, and pressed the knife a little harder into Ployer's back.

"Ouch! Put that away, will you. And no, I'm not bluffing. Now think carefully on what you two want to do." He grinned again. "Your little elven friend there doesn't look like she'll be able to defend herself long in an open fight... remember, no magic here for those with no license..."

Taya was now seething with only grudgingly controlled anger. She lifted the still shaking dagger to Ployer's throat and looked into his eyes. "Lift that curse. _Now._"

He smiled cattily and leaned a little closer to her, which meant that he actually brought his throat closer to her knife.

"Aw, the little Bhaal-Spawn is really angry, hmm?"

This took her completely by surprise. How did he know of her father?

Ployer used her surprise, seized her hand and spun around, so that she was now standing between him and Yoshimo, her own dagger at her throat. Yoshimo stared at him angrily, while Taya struggled in his grip.

"How quickly the tide can turn." Ployer laughed. "And now – to save my honor and as proof I was speaking the truth–I think I will have my mages come to finish off the two of you."

"You could not tell honor from a piece of waste if it struck your face," Yoshimo growled, but slowly lowered the dagger, while Ployer chanted some magical words.

Taya twisted in his grip and said angrily, "Stop him, Yoshimo, you probably won't need him alive to cure that curse! The monks told us that we..."

She gasped as Baron Ployer tightened his grip on her and the dagger, and a thin red line tickled down her neck. He had finished his chanting and asked smugly, "Do you really want me to kill you right now? I would hate having to do that myself, but if you force me... you see, I had actually planned to leave you to a sportive competition with the wizards, that would be more fun for both of us."

Taya would have spit in his face had she been able to turn her head. "Do something, Yoshimo! Once those mages arrive we'll _both_ be lost, and so will Jaheira!"

Yoshimo did not move. "Let her go," he said calmly.

"I cannot see why," Ployer replied simply. "Besides, I should point out that you're in no position to give orders right now. You see, the basic tactics in a situation like this should be…"

"So where are your mages? " Taya interrupted through gritted teeth. Maybe if he lost confidence, they would still be able to overwhelm him. "Taking their time, aren't they? "

"And if they are, I can wait like this." Ployer laughed again. "But I am sure they'll arrive in an instant..."

Yoshimo hesitated, then said slowly, "Fine. I don't want to be here when they arrive. " He took a step back and seemed to disappear in the shadow of the tall buildings to the left and right of them.

Ployer snickered. "A great friend that you have there. It's always good to have someone you can rely on... oh, is that a tear? You're such a foolish, naive little…" He never finished the sentence, because at that particular moment a sharp blade struck him between his shoulders. Yoshimo appeared behind him. "That was a close shave," he stated and swiftly cleaned his knife, "Now let's get what we need from him and then disappear; who knows, these mages may still turn up yet... "

He put the knife away and looked up – and felt as though he had just received a fair punch to the stomach. It seemed that the Baron had twitched rather badly in the moment of his death; Taya was lying on the ground next to him, unmoving and bleeding rather badly. "Oh my... " Yoshimo knelt down next to her and hastily took a phial of healing potion out of his pocket, then hesitated. "Taya? You must swallow this, you hear me, please... " She did not react. Yoshimo cursed having not listened when Jaheira and Cernd had talked about different methods healing only a few days ago, and at a lack of any other ideas poured some of the potion over the cut on Taya's throat. "Please, come on... " Most of the sticky liquid merely seeped into the ground. But some of it seemed to form a thin film on the cut, and at least the bleeding stopped almost completely. But the wound did not really heal, and Taya still did not move. Yoshimo groaned and carefully poured some more potion over it, but to no further effect. "Come on, you can't do this to me... he'll kill me if you die... "

The phial was empty now; he threw it aside and searched his pockets for another one, but found that he had none. He cursed. Everything had gone wrong today. He tried to recall where Taya kept her healing potions, but could not remember ever seeing her use one—after all, he had no time to stare at her during a fight. So he started rummaging through her bag and then her pockets, praying that she was not out of potions, too. When he almost believed that she was, he finally found some of the little phials in an inside pocket of her robes. He wanted to sigh with relief, but then realized that he still did not know how to make her swallow the potion. Fortunately, at that moment, Taya started coughing. The cut started bleeding again a little, but most of the potion seemed to do its job in keeping the wound closed. Yoshimo was so relieved that he could have kissed her. Taya sat up against the wall and looked down her bloodstained and half-open robes.

"Uh... you weren't trying to take advantage of that situation, were you?" she mumbled.

"What! Oh, do shut up and drink this." Yoshimo uncorked one of the little bottles and almost stuffed it into her mouth. Taya smiled and obediently drank the potion. The cut healed slowly, leaving only a white scar. She wanted to get up when she had emptied the bottle, but Yoshimo seized her shoulders and gently pushed her back down.

"You better stay seated for a little while longer."

Taya shrugged, sat back down and started searching trough Baron Ployer's belongings until she found a coil of blonde hair.

"Do you think this is what bound the curse?" she asked and handed Yoshimo the strand. He looked at it, then replied, "I think so." He offered her his hand to help her get up. "Shall we get going, then? The others sure will be pleased to hear we were successful." Taya nodded and let him help her to her feet. She still felt a little dizzy, but that would be gone after a night's rest. Yoshimo smiled and turned to leave the alley way, but Taya caught his sleeve. A little surprised, he turned around again.

"Thank you," she said slowly, "For saving both Jaheira's life, and my own." She quickly and a little clumsily kissed his cheek, then turned to leave. "Let's get going, shall we?"

* * *

"How did you know what happened while you were unconscious? Did he tell you later?"

The goddess nodded. "Obviously." She raised one eyebrow. "What I, or rather we, found out a bit later, too, was that Nalia and Minsc had paid Ployer's henchmen to stay away from him... otherwise I would not be here today, I assume." She smiled wryly. "Should have taught all of us a lesson about being so careless..."

"Hmm..." made the bard, then smirked. "Well, but I guessed correctly."

The goddess smiled back warmly, which was rather uncommon for her. "I suppose you can rely on your guess concerning tales," she said.

* * *


End file.
